


Take Every Ounce of Me

by last_of_her_kind



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Hurt Tony, M/M, Miscommunication, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Threesome - M/M/M, Tony Stark Has Self-Esteem Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, author plays fast and loose with canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:41:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22057933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/last_of_her_kind/pseuds/last_of_her_kind
Summary: Tony Stark knows Captain America is his soulmate. He also knows that Steve wouldn’t and couldn’t ever want him, especially when Tony finds out that Bucky Barnes is Steve’s soulmate, and Steve chooses his brainwashed best friend over whatever tentative thing they’d kindled between them. But it’s okay. Tony understands. He’s never the first choice. Howard drilled that into his head enough over his childhood. Although that doesn’t make it hurt any less.Or where Tony is self-sacrificing, Steve is oblivious, and there is a distinct lack of communication between our three boys.Basically, I’ve fallen deep, deep, deep down into this fandom, and need more hurtTony. And also more soulmate fics. And even after gorging myself on every one I could find, it still wasn’t enough and I had to write my own.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 396
Kudos: 1863
Collections: Dreamwind's Favorite MCU/Marvel Fics, WinterIronShield*





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! So this is not my first time posting fanfics, but it is my first time posting on this site, and I'm new to these tags, so if anyone feels I'm missing something important, please let me know!  
> Also, this is not beta read, and any and all mistakes are my own.  
> Oh, and I like when Tony suffers... he just does it so well! So that'll happen.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Soulmate marks had been studied for as long as people had been receiving them – seemingly random marks that would appear on certain people at certain times, linking them together. Bonding them.

Of course, even with centuries of study, no one could truly explain the marks. Certainly not everyone received one, and there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the people blessed with them. They came from all situations and statuses. 

  
Some people had dedicated their lives to figuring out the symbolism of each mark. Some delicate flowers, or solid lines, or whorls and swirls. All different colors of the rainbow. They could appear on any part of the body. They could appear at any young age. Some people were born with them, some appeared as late as their teens, although it was certain that they appeared in your youth. There had never been an instance of a soulmate mark appearing on anyone over the age of eighteen. 

  
But it was true that soulmates were your literal ‘other half’. They were the perfect partners. Having a soulmate was the thing that every child dreamed about.  
  
Tony Stark woke up with his soulmate mark painlessly sketched on his stomach underneath his ribs when he was ten years old.

  
Of course, he did what any ten-year-old would do when he discovered that, yes, he was one of the special ones that had a soulmate out there that would love and complete him. He ran to the kitchen where his father was just beginning his morning coffee and eagerly pulled up his pajama shirt, showing him the emblem that had appeared on his pale skin. 

  
Howard Stark spit out his coffee when he saw it. 

  
He grabbed his son and pulled him closer to be sure, be _absolutely sure_ , and then whispered achingly “That’s Steve’s mark.” 

  
Tony didn’t really understand at first. Steve? The only Steve that Tony knew about was Steve Rogers, and he knew that Captain America was lost somewhere. _Dead_ , his mother had whispered, _but your father has… a hard time letting go._

  
“Do you know what this means?” Howard had breathed, his eyes lighting up in a way that Tony couldn’t remember seeing before. His hands dug into Tony’s slight arms just a little too hard. “Steve’s alive! He has to be! That’s what this means… I can find him…”

  
Tony was well-used to his fathers rambling, but there was something unsettling about this, about the way Howard rattled Tony’s thin frame with excited shakes. 

  
But Tony was still naïve, still wanted even just a piece of this joy that his father was showing to be shown to _him_ , and he asked his own question before he could stop himself. “Steve… is my soulmate?” 

  
Howard’s head snapped down, and his burning eyes met Tony’s inquisitive ones. Howard’s eyes went dark, and the excitement was replaced with something that left Tony feeling all too cold. Something he would later recognize as his father’s disappointment. 

  
“You’re not good enough for him.” Howard said lowly.

  
Tony wasn’t surprised. 

  
He wasn’t good enough for anyone. 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Bearing the mark of Captain America didn’t get any easier. Especially not in his family. It was barely spoken of in their household. Sometimes Howard would demand to see it, like as long as Tony still had the mark, Steve must still be out there, somewhere, and Howard would find him.

  
But most of the time they all pretended that it didn’t exist. Which was easy enough, seeing as most of the time it seemed like they were pretending that Tony didn’t exist either.

  
As Tony got older, he started hiding his mark. Lying to classmates and bedmates and reporters. No, he did not have a soulmate mark. And everyone believed him. Of course, his playboy ways certainly helped perpetuate the lie. 

  
It wasn’t hard, simply keeping his shirt in place during his frequent one-night stands, then later on moving to cover it up with water-proof makeup, and eventually designing his own piece of incredibly adhesive tech that matched his skin tone practically seamlessly. 

  
No one saw the ink-black half circle cradling a bright yellow star. 

  
Tony could barely stand to look at it. He knew his father was right. Even if Captain America came back one day, Tony Stark was not good enough for him. 

  
And then after Afghanistan he didn’t let anyone get close enough to risk seeing the mark anyways.  
Well, there was Pepper. Almost.

  
And Tony trusted her more then perhaps he’d ever trusted someone in his life. She saw the patch on his stomach, and when she asked he told her the truth. His soulmate was dead. Of course he was dead. Howard hadn’t managed to find his corpse, but he was still gone.

  
She held him that night and never brought it up again. 

  
But eventually he was too much for her. He didn’t blame her. Not many people could stand him. But it still hurt. 

  
Tony Stark did best alone. 

  
Or at least that’s what he told himself. That’s what he had to tell himself, or he thought he might go crazy. He was… unlovable. 

  
And then they pulled Steve Rogers from the ice.

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Before Tony saw Steve for the first time, he had already run through a hundred possible introductions in his head. But in not a single one did he say the words “I’m your soulmate”. He couldn’t. That wasn’t fair. That wasn’t right. He couldn’t burden the greatest hero of the century with himself. He was damaged. 

  
Of course, by the time Steve said the words, those words, (“ _big man with the suit. Take that off and what are you?”_ ) Tony had already realized that Steve didn’t want him. Wouldn’t want him. So it was better that way. Easier. 

  
Even if, _god_ , it hurt.

  
And the man himself was gorgeous. Perfect, really. Tall and capable and confident and blonde. But no, Tony would not think about that. Not when the supersoldier so very clearly couldn’t stand Tony. And, oh yeah, he was a supersoldier. Tony was just an irritating, defensive, fuck up of a man with too many scars. Steve didn’t want him as a teammate, let alone a soulmate. He barely even looked at him unless he had too. 

  
_Grow up, Tony_ , he scolded himself. _You knew. You always knew. Howard told you._

  
Easier said then done, as it turns out. Tony couldn’t get over him. But he could choose not to let the supersoldier know that. Not let anybody know that. He had his masks. He’d been covering up his emotions as long as he’d been covering up that goddamned mark. So he didn’t let Steve know that every time he glared at him, disgust or disdain across his perfectly sculpted face, Tony’s already all-too-fragile heart cracked. He certainly didn’t let him know that every biting remark about his skills or his attitude made him recoil in his own head. 

  
Instead Tony used his words right back at him. The world thought that the Iron Man suit was his greatest weapon, but long before the suit was even a concept, Tony had been fighting his battles with words. 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
The first time Tony saw Steve’s mark was down in the gym. He had been sparring with Barton, and pulled off his damp T-shirt, revealing glistening muscles and muscles and muscles and… there – on his right shoulder blade was a perfect match for Tony’s own mark. The same lines, the same colors. 

  
Then Steve turned and saw Tony starring and frowned, his mouth pulling down into a grimace, and Tony hurried away. 

  
But he was _fine_.

  
He was Tony Stark. He was always _fine_.

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Time passed. There were missions and aliens and doombots and debriefs, and somewhere along the line Tony and Steve’s dynamic changed. 

  
He couldn’t even be sure when it started, but somewhere in between welcoming the Avenger’s into the tower, and sparring matches, and Clint guilt-tripping people into movie nights, and squabbling over takeout ,the great echoing chasm between Tony and Steve was just… less. 

  
Suddenly Steve was passing Tony shawarma with a small smile. When Steve realized that at 5am when he came back from his jog that Tony was (still) awake, he’d fill the coffee maker so when the genius stumbled into the kitchen area for another cup of joe, it was hot and ready. 

  
Tony made a point of making sure that the freezer was stocked with vanilla ice cream and that variety of apples that Steve liked were always available, and he was surprised to realize how effortless the gestures were.

  
Then somewhere along the line Tony and Steve were sharing the couch during the aforementioned movie nights, and rolling their eyes together at the terrible action scenes, and Tony was scared to admit how hopeful each little act felt. 

  
Maybe.

  
Maybe.

  
Maybe his dad had been wrong.

  
Maybe there was a chance…

  
But Tony didn’t make a move. Couldn’t say anything. Wouldn’t ruin this camaraderie they had now. He could keep pretending that Steve was only his friend. That he only wanted him as a friend. He’d been pretending most of his life. And as long as he was just pretending, he only hurt himself. If Steve ever found out the truth… well, nobody really wanted Tony. Better to spare Captain America from that, and spare Tony from the rejection that would come. 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
And then… and then one morning as Tony was dragging himself to the communal kitchen for more coffee and one of Natasha’s addictively good blueberry muffins, he heard Clint’s voice. 

  
“What about you, Cap? You know who your soulmate is?” He asked in the archer’s typical fashion, with no respect for personal boundaries. 

  
Tony’s step faltered a few steps short of the kitchen, even though he knew the answer. Obviously Steve _didn’t_ know who his soulmate was. Otherwise surely, _surely_ , he would have mentioned something to Tony. He clearly didn’t know that Tony wore his matching mark.

  
Except the Captain’s voice was low but clear when he answered without hesitation. “Yes.”

  
_Yes_?

  
Tony froze in shock. Steve knew? How? How had be seen… when had he seen…? Why hadn’t he ever said anything?

  
Clint spoke again, teasingly. “Well, come on. What’s their name?”

  
Steve scoffed lightly, and Tony could just imagine those intense blue eyes narrowed at Clint’s face as the archer and the mechanic waited for his answer. 

  
“None of your business, Clint.”

  
Tony’s heart stopped.

  
That’s why Steve had never told Tony that he knew they were soulmates. He didn’t _want_ anyone to know. He didn’t want Tony.

  
The genius stumbled back, one hand coming up to clutch at the ache in his chest, even as he cursed himself for his stupid, blind hope. 

  
Because nobody wanted Tony.

  
He retreated to his workshop, stumbling to the elevator with blurry eyes. God. He was a grown-ass man. He was an Avenger. He wasn’t going to cry over something as foolish and juvenile as a broken heart. He would get through this. The same way he’d gotten through his parents death and Obie’s betrayal and Afghanistan. Stark’s were made of iron. 

  
It was harder to fall back into that easy companionship now that he knew, but he tried. If that’s all that Steve wanted, all he would take, then Tony wanted to give him that. He knew Rhodey would tell him how unhealthy it was, but when had that ever stopped him before? He was an expert at unhealthy lifestyles. 

  
Months passed, and Tony had to keep reminding himself of the conversation he’d heard, because Steve didn’t always act like it. Sometimes he would clap Tony on the back, knock their shoulders together. With anyone else, Tony would have labeled it as comradery, but it felt like an introduction to more. 

  
And Tony had to be fooling himself. There was no way Steve was attracted to him. There had to be some other reason that the supersoldier sometimes seemed to be transfixed by Tony’s lips, or reached out to touch his hand then aborted halfway there. 

  
It obviously didn’t mean what Tony wanted it to mean. 

  
Then one day Tony stumbled into the kitchen to find Steve and Sam huddled over the table, and the Captain looked almost… shell-shocked. 

  
“Cap?” 

  
Steve turned to him, his eyes wide. “Tony. We… found him.”

  
There was only one ‘him’ he could be talking about. Bucky Barnes. 

  
“You did?” The quips Tony was so famous for didn’t come to mind, instead a terrifying thought was building - would Steve leave him for Barnes? Aw, shit. Of _course_ he would. Barnes was Steve’s best friend. He talked about him more than anything else before they knew he had lived in HYDRA’s sharp claws for the past seven decades, and he talked about him even more since they started looking at leads all those months ago. Hell, Tony probably knew more about the good Sergeant than he knew about most other people living in the tower. 

  
And he knew looking at those wide, hopeful, _so-young-looking_ eyes that he would lose Steve to Barnes. 

  
Sam watched Tony carefully, and the billionaire was quick to school his features. The other man was entirely too observant for his own good, and it wouldn’t do to have anyone thinking that Tony cared. Fuck, that would be embarrassing. 

  
“We’re going to get him.” Steve announced. “Sam and I.”

  
“I’ll come.” Tony said before he could think about it. In case Barnes couldn’t be brought back. In case Steve got hurt. 

  
Steve’s tone softened. “We got this Tony. You should stay here.”

  
“I can help with this, Cap.”

  
“No. Tony. You can’t.”

  
Sam tried to intervene. “Steve…”

  
Tony talked right over him. “You might need me out there. We don’t know what going on in Barnes’ head. You can’t do this alone.”

  
Steve voice was louder, dripping with emotion. “I’m the only one who can do this, Tony. I can talk to him.”

  
“Talk to him? He’s a brainwashed assassin. Talking’s not gonna work, and you sure as hell can’t expect him to play fair. You’ll need backup.”

  
Steve fisted his eyes, like Tony was giving him a headache and he could just push it away. “No, Tony.”

  
“Why not?” 

  
“Because Bucky is my soulmate!” Steve shouted.

  
Well, it had hurt less when Obadiah had pulled the reactor out Tony’s chest. 

  
He stumbled back a step, his chest feeling too tight again, his breathing sounding too loud in his own ears. Sam looked concerned, like he knew something was going on, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was. “Hey, Stark?” 

  
Tony took another step backwards. “Okay then. Okay. Glad we got that… cleared…”

  
He thought he heard Steve call after him as he rushed out of the kitchen, but he couldn’t hear him over the pounding in his ears. 

  
_How?_ Tony had seen Steve’s mark. It was _identical_. He was a certified genius. He didn’t make mistakes like this. Except, Steve was so sure that it was Barnes. Could it… could it have something to do with his time in the ice? Did soulmarks get… reused? That wasn’t supposed to be possible, but it would just his luck, wouldn’t it? 

  
He avoided Steve until he left.

  
And he funded the whole trip. 

  
Because who was he to stand in the way of true love? 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Steve and Sam were gone for two weeks, and when they came back James Buchannan Barnes trailed behind them like a shadow. 

  
Tony wanted to hate him. _Tried_ to hate him. It’s just that Barnes looked a kicked puppy _all the time._ Those big wide eyes that’s screamed _don’t hurt me_ , even though everyone in the tower was very aware that the Winter Soldier was more than likely the biggest threat of any of them. 

  
Barnes slunk around the tower like he was afraid of disrupting anyone, like his very presence was an offense, and, well, wasn’t conditioning a bitch, but it made Tony want to take that sliver of fear out of his eyes, see the charming kid from Brooklyn that Steve still swore was hiding underneath. 

  
Tony was a mechanic. He fixed things. He wanted to fix Barnes too. 

  
+-+-+-+-+  



	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Sorry guys. I had this more or less finished almost a week ago, left it open because I wanted to tweak it, and ended up not tweaking it at all for all that time. So... why did I even wait?? Anyways, it's here now.  
> Also, thank you so much to everyone who took the time to review, and/or leave kudos!

Tony used to have a poster of the Howling Commandos above his bed. Captain America was front and center, looking firm and stoic, with his shield braced in front of him as if he could protect the whole world. He looked like the kind of man who could protect Tony. From his dad. From his classmates. From the monsters he was too young to name but _knew_ were out there.

  
Sergeant James Buchannan Barnes was on his right, dressed sharply in his uniform, his hair trimmed short, his eyes dark – all confidence and swagger. He had looked as unshakable as the Captain in his own way. 

  
It was hard to reconcile that man from the poster with the soldier who’d been taking up residence in the Tower this past week. 

  
Tony hadn’t even had a chance to talk with Barnes yet. Steve and Sam had returned while Tony was in an SI board meeting, and when Tony next saw Steve, the blonde had begged him to give Barnes some time. And despite everything, Tony certainly couldn’t say no to that. If the man who had been brainwashed and tortured for seven decades needed a bit of space, Tony would do that. 

  
Of course, that didn’t stop the genius from hanging out in the communal spaces a bit more. Drinking coffee in the wide open kitchen instead of immediately retreating to his workshop every once in a while. Which is how he got lucky enough this particular morning to catch sight of their newest addition. 

  
Barnes appeared silently when Tony was halfway through his coffee and glossing over the updates Pepper had emailed him. 

  
Barnes paused in the doorway for a moment, and Tony glanced up, both of them surprised to see the other. 

  
Tony broke eye contact first, dropping his gaze to his tablet, curious if Barnes was about to retreat. But no, the ex-assassin moved over to the counter where he pulled out three bagels to slice and prepare, not quite turning his back on Tony. 

  
Tony drank him in. This was the first time he’d really _seen_ Barnes since he’d come to the Tower, certainly ever seen him up close. His metal arm (god, Tony _really_ wanted to get his hands on that) moved perfectly in sync with his flesh and blood arm, muscles shifting under his clothes from even the simplest of tasks. The sleeves of his hoodie were shoved up to reveal thick forearms, and if Tony wasn’t mistaken, the sweater belonged to Steve. 

  
But that made sense. Because they were soulmates. Sharing clothes was a thing they did. 

  
God, Tony ached for that. 

  
“I can feel you staring, Stark.” Barnes muttered. 

  
Tony almost upending his mug. God, his voice was so _deep_. 

  
“That’s cause your worth staring at, Pumpkin.” Tony winced the second the words were out of his mouth. Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that – it’s just his brain-to-mouth filter wasn’t engaged before at least his second cup of joe. 

  
But Barnes laughed. 

  
It was a bit creaky, a bit worn, but it was a laugh.

  
And, well, if Tony wasn’t intrigued by the man who also wore the same Soulmark by now, that interaction would have fixed that. 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
After that, Tony’s interactions with Barnes were still brief, but he started to see the soldier a bit more, and he could see clear as day that he _deserved_ to be with Steve. And as much as it hurt to admit, Steve deserved to be with Barnes too. It wasn’t just that they had been best friends before the war and the serum – although you could practically see that connection between the two of them. 

  
Tony couldn’t help but compare himself to Bucky. Couldn’t help but see that Steve had made the right choice choosing his friend over him. Bucky was gorgeous. Hard blue eyes, and dark stubble. Hair that was often tucked behind his ears, giving him a softer, boyish look. A chest that stretched any shirt he put over it. Whereas Tony was… Tony was old. He was hovering on the wrong side of forty. Of course Steve would have no qualms replacing him with another enhanced individual, especially if said individual was _his real soulmate_.

  
Tony was mouthy and irritating and selfish. He’d been told hundreds of times, by his parents and his classmates, lovers and press. He was greying and scarred and he’d been replaced by people so many times over his life so _why did it still ache so bad_? Why did his chest feel like it was caving in when he saw Steve press a quick kiss to Bucky’s cheek? 

  
The worst part was, even though Bucky and Steve were _obviously_ together – even someone as dense as Tony could see that plainly – Steve didn’t treat Tony differently. He still sat beside Tony when the engineer came to movie nights, only now Bucky was perched on Steve’s other side. 

  
He would still make Tony ridiculously large cups of caffeine in the morning, but now he would make a second, more reasonably-sized cup to take back to Bucky.

  
And Tony wasn’t cruel enough to let Bucky suffer when he noticed the supersoldier had mis-jointed a few fingers on a punching bag. It took some coaxing to even convince him to enter Tony’s workshop, but once he realized it was decidedly _not_ like the labs he knew under HYDRA’s care, he even started to venture down of his own free will while Tony was working. 

  
Which at first seemed fine. It turns out Tony enjoyed spending time with him. He was mostly silent, but he listened, and he was sharp. He was careful of the bots, and watched Tony work as if he was actually interested in it. Until a few visits in when Steve came to collect Bucky, and Tony realized the implications of allowing him entry into one of the last safe spaces he had. 

  
Now he had to listen to whispered endearments, and catch hand-squeezing from the corner of his eye, and Steve looking at Tony at sad eyes that he had no idea what for. 

  
Well, it turned out that Tony was a masochist too, because he couldn’t make them leave. Even though it was a painful preview to the thing he might have had. Even if it made him want to burn his mark from his skin.

  
(But JARVIS talked him down from that.)

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Life went on. Tony should have counted himself lucky. He got to witness firsthand an epic love story. Two soulmates finding each other after all they’d been through. 

  
After the first few months, he wasn’t even jealous anymore, not really. The problem with liking them, is he ended up feeling happy for them. And his little spot just outside of their orbit would be good enough. 

  
It would be. 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
It was about three months after Bucky had come to the Tower. The mechanic stumbled into the kitchen with only one goal in mind. He shuffled by Clint and Natasha at the table without even acknowledging he knew they were there. 

  
Tony had been up almost seventy-two hours by this point, and was half asleep standing up waiting for the goddamn coffee to hurry up. Why hadn’t he programed it to brew faster yet?

  
He didn’t notice Bucky enter the kitchen, or see the ex-assassin glance at his back, then shot a worried face at the duo at the table. He didn’t see Natasha’s one-shouldered shrug that roughly translated to _what can you do? It’s Tony._

  
Tony was so out of it, he didn’t even flinch when Bucky placed his heavy, flesh and blood hand on his shoulder and whispered “What are you doing to yourself, sweetheart?”

  
Tony pried an eye open to check the progress of the mug in front of him. “Coffee.” He mumbled blearily. Or at least that’s what he hoped he said. 

  
Bucky sighed, half amusement, half exasperation. “Come on, Doll. Come with me.” He lightly shook Tony’s shoulder, steering him away from the counter. 

  
“Wait!” Tony gasped, making feeble grabby-hands at the mug.

  
“Come on, Tony.” Bucky repeated softly, maneuvering him past Clint’s smirking face and Natasha’s approving eyes towards the living room. 

  
Tony let himself be led without protest, just wanted that warm press of flesh to never stop. He sighed half-heartedly. He wasn’t touch-starved, not really (except maybe he was). It’s just that Bucky felt so nice and warm and solid, and it had been a long time since Tony had had that. 

  
Tony found himself pressed into the couch, and then Bucky dropped down beside him, still so close – the line of his thigh pressed against his. If Tony had been a little more aware he would of subtly put a few inches between them, because that was what you did when pressed up against somebody else’s boyfriend, but he was thwarted when a heavy arm wrapped around his shoulders and held him tight.

  
“What…?” Tony knew this was wrong. He wasn’t allowed this. Shouldn’t allow this. If Steve saw… this could ruin what relationship they had left. Tony couldn’t take this. 

  
“Stop stressing, Tony. You need to relax.” That deep voice rumbled. 

  
“I’ve got work to do.”

  
“Mmm. What’re you workin’ on?” 

  
“The, uh, the upgrade for the new… Starkphone. Gotta be… faster. Gotta get back to it.”

  
That arm tightened. “Tony. Sweetheart. You’ve gotta rest. You can’t run yourself ragged like this. It’s not healthy.” 

  
“You’re not the boss of me.” Tony muttered, eyes firmly closed by now.

  
“I know.” Bucky muttered, and Tony must be more tired than he thought, because he thought he could feel the soft press of lips against his hair.

  
And it was bad, but he smelled so good, and Tony was so tired, and maybe just this once? 

  
He came awake sometime later to the sound of quiet voices above him, and the press of warm limbs on both sides of him, and he startled, hurrying to dislodge himself from the situation, which resulted in him more or less on the floor, and two shocked faces staring down at him.

  
_Oh, god_ , Tony realized. No wonder he’d overheated, stuck between two supersoldiers. And on the tail of that thought was, _shit, I was in_ Steve’s _spot_.

  
“Tony?” Steve said. 

  
The genius held up his hand to pause them, and maybe give himself a moment to collect his thoughts and his dignity (well… it might be too late for the second one). “Sorry, Cap.” He injected into the silence hurriedly.

  
“Nothing to apologize for.” Bucky said firmly. Steve smiled at him and they were both so beautiful, even with the shadows that still touched Bucky’s eyes and the worry lines that creased the blondes face ever so slightly. 

  
“No. Nope. Definitely have to apologize for monopolizing your boyfriend. Not cool. Honestly, Steve – you should have pushed me over. Well, actually, Bucky Bear should never have let me sleep in the first place. Annnnd I probably drooled on him, so I should definitely apologize for that. But you guys don’t need to baby me.” Tony was rambling as he picked himself up off the floor, because that’s a thing that he does when he doesn’t have enough caffeine, or he’s nervous, or his heart is beating entirely too fast. This time, it just so happened it was because of all three. 

  
“Tony. We weren’t babying you.” Steve said gently. “We just want to look after you. We’re teammates. That’s what we do.”

  
Tony cringed internally. Teammates. That’s what they were. That’s _all_ they were. Not even _friends_. Stupid. Stupid. _Stupid_. 

  
Tony stared at the two men who bore his mark, at the gap between them where just moments ago _he_ had fit into, and watched as Steve shifted minutely, unconsciously, toward his soulmate, and the space that had been Tony’s narrowed before his eyes. 

  
No matter how easy it seemed sometimes, or how fondly they treated him, there wasn’t room there for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... eventually there will be a happy ending. Promise.


	3. Three

Steve Rogers was fascinated by Tony Stark.

  
Well, not at first, no. At first all Steve could see was someone that was rude and abrasive and always had to be right, and who wasn’t _Howard_. He played fast and loose with his life, acted like he couldn’t care less about those around him. He threw money at problems he didn’t want to put the effort into fixing and he bandied insults around without a thought for others feelings, rubbed his lifestyle in others faces, and it all infuriated Steve. 

  
But as Steve spent more time in the twenty-first century, and more time around the eccentric billionaire, he started to see bits and pieces of a different Tony. It was bound to happen, living and fighting with someone. 

  
There was Natasha – superspy, double agent, _triple_ agent when the circumstances called for it. Someone with an unshakable poker face and an unflappable attitude, who could lie to your face without flinching, who had claimed in the beginning that she couldn’t care about any of them, and that would never change. 

  
And Clint. The man had kept an entire family secreted away for most of his life, with more kills under his belt then Steve could fathom, who could blend into any situation, who could read people with an ease that Steve envied. Clint was quick to read a room and use terrible humor to lift moods, or distract enemies or teammates depending on the situation. He played dumb to hide intelligence. 

  
Bruce Banner – who ended up being the exact opposite of what they all expected (except Tony, ironically enough). A genius and a friend, unfailingly honest, but never in a way that hurt people.

  
Thor was a prince, a warrior, had a huge heart, and still lonely. He wanted to be part of the team, be part of something, even as Asgard called him home. 

  
Steve knew he team. Which is why the fact that Tony’s true nature eluded him for so long intrigued him. Was the genius a better actor than Black Widow, or Hawkeye, who both lied and misled for a living? Or was he just so afraid to trust that even after knowing each other for this long, he could barely drop his walls? 

  
After they moved into the Tower, Steve had the pleasure of meeting one Pepper Potts, the CEO of Tony’s company and, Natasha told him later, his ex-girlfriend. He remembered thinking she was too good for him. He also remembered her pulling him aside and telling him on no uncertain terms: “Tony feels everything we do, Captain. He just… shows it differently.” It was a warning as much as it was an explanation. 

  
Of course, she was right. It took months to puzzle out Tony’s methods, and he often wondered if the rest of the team was as baffled by their teammate as he was. 

  
He sometimes wondered if Tony wanted it that way. Wanted to keep the whole world guessing.   
But eventually Steve was able to figure out some of the nuances of Tony, which he realized sometime around the same time was a whole different identity then the blinding persona of _Tony Stark_ , or the facets of Iron Man, despite the fact that one man wielded them all. 

  
When Tony was worried, he would build. When the team came back from a mission a little worse for wear, all their gear received upgrades, or in some cases, full overhauls. When Clint broke his arm, Tony made him three new types of arrowheads. When Steve had his ribs broken, Tony spent three days in his lab, and came up with new gloves and boots with enhanced grips.

  
Without Pepper’s words ringing in his head, Steve could see how easy it would be to misread Tony’s actions. To see the excessive amount of gifts as a way of buying friendship, buying a place on the team. Steve himself had once upon a time accused Tony of that exact thing before he got to know the truth. 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
It was several months after the Avengers were formed that Pepper asked Steve to meet her in her office at SI. Officially, she wanted to talk about the Avengers accommodations in the Tower, but unofficially, she wanted to ask after Tony.

  
“Is he… doing alright?” She asked. 

  
Steve smiled gently at her. He understood that sometimes you just couldn’t go up to Tony and ask him straight out. Actually, he’d never known a situation like that. He wasn’t sure what had cropped up between Pepper and Tony recently to make her need to ask this now, but he was happy to be able to help ease her mind. “He hasn’t said otherwise. You know Tony… sometimes he doesn’t… communicate very easily, but he seems okay.”

  
Pepper looked relieved, and Steve wouldn’t be surprised if Tony had more or less said the same thing to her recently, but she just needed a second opinion. “I’m glad he has you to look out for him, Steve.” She said honestly. 

  
He nodded. “Of course. He’s my teammate. And my friend.”

  
When he went to leave, he hesitated by the door. “Miss Potts… you and he… you weren’t Soulmates?”

  
She gave him a hard look, and Steve almost apologized and retreated without an answer. He certainly wasn’t any of his business, and although he knew they’d dated, they’d been broken up almost as long as Steve had known Tony. But then she spoke. “You know Tony. He’s very personal.”

  
Steve nodded, ready to accept that, but then she continued. “He would probably never tell you himself, but I know you’d never tell anyone.” It wasn’t a question. 

  
“No, ma’am.”

  
“Tony’s Soulmate – they’re dead. They’ve been dead for a long time, Steve. Although I expect I’m the only one he’s ever told, since it has never been in any tabloid or on any talkshow. Except perhaps his parents.”

  
And so Steve learned one more thing about Tony Stark.

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
He couldn’t help but think about it, though. The fact that Tony had no one. 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
It would have taken someone special to be Tony’s Soulmate. Someone who would take the time to get to know the man behind the mask. The hero underneath the public face. But it would be worth it. 

  
Steve thought about the genuine smile that sometimes would grace Tony’s face when he was talking to his bots, or to Pepper or James Rhodes. There had once been someone who would have gotten the real Tony. 

  
Steve never said anything about it to Tony. By this point he knew the man well enough to know any sort of empathy or understanding from Steve would translate as pity to the older man. If Tony had wanted him to know, he would have told him. 

  
But sometimes Steve wanted to tell him. Wanted to say, _I understand. My Soulmate is gone too._

  
Until the day came that Steve learned Bucky was still alive, still out there. Changed and hurt, maybe, but still fighting. Still worth fighting for. And he was selfishly glad he’d never said anything to Tony that the genius could throw back in his face. Tony had a special way of making words hurt if given the opportunity. 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Somehow, despite Steve and Bucky being different people now, they still fit together. There was still that ease about them, that seventy years had not lessoned, that HYDRA had not been able to take away, that their bodies did not forget. Even when Bucky admitted, shamefaced, that his Mark was gone. That HYDRA had taken it along with his limb.

  
Steve held him and whispered “I know, Buck. I’ve known since I first saw you. It doesn’t matter to me. It doesn’t change anything.” Just because he no longer had their Mark on his skin didn’t change what Steve knew. 

  
He didn’t say what else he’s thinking - how strong Bucky is, the strongest person he’s ever known, to have gone through what he has. He didn’t say how he likes the way his hair is know, how he wants to bury his hands in it and hold Bucky against his chest with every last bit of strength the serum gave him. He didn’t say he loves him. Bucky would just accuse him of being a sap. He didn’t say that the scars don’t bother him – the ones where his arm was, and the others, dotted across his skin from weapons and tools, torture and enemies – he’s not sure Bucky would believe him anyways. 

  
He just tried to show him. Tried to spend every moment he could with him to make up for decades of _not being there_. That was something Steve could do, and Bucky could accept. 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Then there was a morning, when Steve awoke and Bucky’s side of the bed was empty, and when the dark-haired man came back wearing Steve’s favorite hoodie and smelling like toasted bagels and dark coffee, he caught Steve’s bleary eyes and said,

  
“So… tell me about Stark.”   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I know this one is not as painful as Tony's side of things -- sorry to everyone who is just here for the pain! We are getting back to him!


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part picks up immediately after part two just so you all know (hopefully that's not too confusing!)

Tony was many things, but you couldn’t accuse him of being a coward. 

  
Most of the time. 

  
The fact that he didn’t want to leave his room, well, that was another matter all together. He had things to do. Paperwork and… stuff. He wasn’t avoiding anyone. That was juvenile. Unfortunately, Tony did not always get what he wanted. His stomach was quite insistent it needed food. Usually, he could postpone the hunger pangs with a few cups of coffee, but he didn’t have a coffee maker in his room. 

  
_Why_ didn’t he have a coffee maker in his room? 

  
“J, where is… everyone?” 

  
“They all appear to be in the kitchen, Sir. It is Saturday. Dr. Banner is cooking brunch.” 

  
Tony sighed. Of course they would all happen to be in the one place he needed to go. But Bruce’s cooking was tempting. And it would be okay, he convinced himself, because the rest of the Avengers would be there to act as a buffer, so maybe Steve wouldn’t focus on the all-too-mortifying events of last night. He certainly wouldn’t mention it – not in front of everyone. They could all just eat Bruce’s waffles and then go their separate ways. 

  
Bruce was over the waffle iron when Tony entered the kitchen. Natasha was expertly chopping fruit beside him. Bucky and Steve sat side by side at the table and Clint was across from them talking animatedly with an over-abundance of hand gestures. Bucky was ignoring him completely. Steve was at least pretending to listen.

  
Tony shuffled through the doorway. Steve spotted him first, and all but jumped from his chair, alerting everyone to his presence. “Tony!”

  
“Steve.” Tony mumbled back.

  
“You want coffee, right?” Steve asked loudly (and redundantly. They’d all been living with Tony long enough to know his relationship with coffee). He moved hastily over to the counter where the machine sat, and Tony’s favorite mug was already sitting beside. “JARVIS said you were on your way, so I got it ready for you.” 

  
Tony stared at him. It was slightly abnormal behavior for the Captain, but Tony supposed he was probably looking for any excuse to not have to listen to Clint’s story about the time he battled six monkeys that turned into ninjas that really just wanted his Starbucks or whatever the hell kinda nonsense the archer was spouting this time. He certainly didn’t blame him – Bucky was looking a little more assassin-y too. Sometimes Tony suspected Clint was a pathological liar. Or he actually thought he was funny. He wasn’t sure which one was worse. 

  
Anyways, noting that his coffee was on its way, Tony dropped into the chair farthest from their resident archer, and drummed his fingers until Bruce placed a stack of perfectly fluffy, golden waffles in front of him. Tony rewarded him with a big grin, and Bruce smiled softly back at him. 

  
“He just got here!” Clint protested. “Why does he get waffles first?”

  
“Because I am the hardest working person here. And also because Brucie-Bear likes me best.” Tony bragged. 

  
“Because it is a rare occurrence that Tony actually realizes he needs sustenance to survive, whereas you raid the kitchen on a 60 minute rotation.” Bruce says pointedly, then he slides over a few more plates of waffles, Natasha brings over her mountain of fruit, and Steve delivers one steaming cup of coffee in front of Tony, and they all dig in.

  
Mouths are full for about three minutes by Tony’s internal watch, when the chatter breaks out again. Tony mostly ignores it – too busy surreptitiously watching the two supersoldiers, which sadly is nothing new these day. 

  
He only pulled his gaze away when Clint said something that caught his attention.

  
“So… Steve, Bucky. When are you guys tying the knot?”

  
Tony’s head snapped around to Clint of its own accord.

  
“Tie the knot?” Steve repeated. 

  
“Yeah, ya know. Doing the old ball and chain. Jumping the broom. Buying the cow... _Married_.” 

  
Steve looked at the archer. “I know what it means, Clint.”

  
Tony’s heart seized. He didn’t want to hear this. Didn’t want to hear how they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together (even though, obviously, he did _know_ ) “You guys are talking about getting married?” Tony managed to choke out, hoping desperately it didn’t sound as pathetic as he feared it did. 

  
Steve looked at him oddly. “Clint’s the one talking about marriage.”

  
Okay, so maybe he hadn’t sounded as cool as he hoped. “Well, that’s fine. If you guys wanted. Of course. It’d be the event of the century, right? Big shindig.”

  
Bucky shoveled a forkful of waffle into his mouth and proceeded to talk around it. “Seems like a lot o’ work.”

  
“Oh, they have wedding planners now to do all that for you.” Bruce told him. 

  
“And that sounds expensive.” Steve said.

  
“Yes, it is.” Bruce acknowledged without looking up.

  
Tony met Steve’s bright blue eyes, searching them. Was the cost the only thing holding them back? Well, damn. What kind of friend (friend, friend, _friend_ ) was he if he didn’t try… didn’t offer… he could “…cover it. I mean, if you two wanted. Of course I would. It’s no problem. I can afford it.” Tony forced the words out past the lump in his throat, and he even managed to smile while he was doing it. Hell, he’d had enough practice with that throughout his life. It was nice to see it was finely paying off. 

  
Bucky coughed, choking on his waffle, and Steve handed him his orange juice.

  
Natasha side-eyed Tony with pursed lips. 

  
“Tony-“

  
Bucky interrupted his soulmate. “You ain’t paying for our fucking wedding, Stark.”

  
Tony forced himself not to react. “Right. Of course.”

  
The table was oddly silent for a beat. Natasha opened her mouth, and so did Bucky, but before either could speak JARVIS saved the day.

  
“Sir, if I may have your attention?”

  
Tony jumped on it like the lifeline it was. “Oh, yeah, J. That thing?”

  
“Yes, sir. It needs your attention immediately.”

  
God, JARVIS was an absolute lifesaver. Tony grabbed his coffee and split like there was a fire under his ass, just barely catching Bucky say “…not what I meant!”

  
Tony entered the elevator, sighing in relief at getting out of there before he made things worse. “J?”

  
“You’re heart rate was elevated, sir. I felt it best to remove you from the situation.”

  
Tony had never been so glad to have the AI watching his back. Vitals. Whatever.

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
The genius proceeded to deal with the situation in typical Tony Stark fashion, by spending the next several days holed up in his work room, working his way through half-finished side projects, or shelved SI inventions, or whatever else JARVIS had in his archives. 

  
Eight days after the wedding talk, Tony put the finishing touches on his fifth project, filed it away, and leaned back in his chair. “Alright, J. What’s up next? Give me something a bit more challenging, would ya?” 

  
“As you wish, sir.” 

  
The screen in front of him filled instantly with a life size 2D model of two thirds of a prosthetic arm that he had started months ago when Bucky had first moved to the tower, unsure if the arm he had could be repaired at that point. Tony laughed at himself. Down here trying to avoid any part of the Brooklyn Boys, and still getting caught up in it. 

  
“Alright. Let’s do this.”

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Three weeks after that, of Tony finely braving the common areas and finding that nobody seemed to even remember that morning conversation, let alone make note or over-analyze like he had, Tony was able to catch Bucky on his way from the gym.

  
“I made you an arm.” He blurted.

  
Bucky stilled, shifting. “Sorry?”

  
“An arm.” Tony repeated, trying to read his all-too-blank expression. “If you wanted. It’s better!” He insisted, when Bucky still didn’t respond. “And I made it, so it’s not that HYDRA crap – I don’t actually mean _crap_ , it’s incredibly advanced for what it is. Was. – It’s just that I built you a nicer one. Ione that’s not all murder-y. If you wanted.”

  
“Tony.”

  
Shit, was he losing him? “You’ll love it. It’s lighter, too. Cause I noticed sometimes your neck bothers you a bit, and this should help. The sensors are also top notch, and once they’re tied in you should be able to feel _everything_ , not just pain and touch, but temperatures.”

  
He cut himself off. The soldier was still staring at him. He cursed himself. He knew better. _People don’t like it when you ramble, Tony_.

  
“Um. Do you wanna see it?” 

  
A heatbeat passed. Two. Three. Then, 

  
“Yeah, Tony. I want to see it.” 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Bucky liked the arm. Maybe Tony would even go so far as to say the ex-assassin loved it. It was a little hard to tell – it’s not like the man gushed over it, but he touched it, and he asked a few questions, and two days after the grand reveal he told Tony he would like to try it. 

  
Tony couldn’t help the stupid grin on his face. Bucky might not want his money, but he could still give him things he did want. 

  
Tony wasn’t so egotistical as to think he could attach a man’s arm all by himself, so he enlisted the talented Helen Cho, and got Bruce to be available on standby. (“I’m not that kind of doctor, Tony.” But he agreed anyways.)

  
The night before the surgery was scheduled, Bucky appeared in Tony’s lab. 

  
“I was hoping… there was something you could do. On the arm.” 

  
He was nervous. Tony didn’t think he’d ever seen the man nervous. It was… absolutely endearing, and made Tony want to wrap his arms around him.

  
“When I lost my arm, I lost my soulmark. I was hoping we could put it back on.” 

  
Tony’s heart flipped. In pain, in sympathy, he wasn’t quite sure. He cleared his throat. “Where does it go?” 

  
Bucky leaned forward and gently touched the metal bicep. “Here.”

  
Tony swiped his stylus and reached up beside Bucky, almost close enough to feel the warmth of his body. He sketched a quick but precise star, then smoothly placed the solid black line around it, then glanced up at the soldier. “Right here look good?”

  
Bucky was staring at him fiercely. “How the hell do you know what my soulmark looks like?”

  
Tony froze. He’d been so caught up, it hadn’t even occurred to him that it might be strange for him to be able to draw Bucky and Steve’s mark. Nobody knew that Tony had to look at the damn thing every time he had a shower. Stupid, _stupid_.

  
Luckily, Tony’s brain worked like a shot, and he blurted out something that was true, just not the truth. “I’ve seen it on Steve. Plus I have an eidetic memory, so.” He shrugged. 

  
Bucky seemed to accept it, but he didn’t lose the intenseness in his expression as he watched Tony. 

  
It was alright though. Tony had managed to give him back his arm and his soulmark. That had to be better than paying for a stupid wedding anyways. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, if this wasn't clear, Steve and Bucky are not getting married - Tony just thinks that because Clint has a big mouth and no filter. It's all just been talk. Did you guys understand that reading it?  
> Sometimes I worry because I know what's up, but duh I know because I'm the one with the ideas, and I forget to make it abundantly clear while writing.  
> If anyone finds it confusing, please let me know!!


	5. Five

Steve dropped a box on the couch beside Bucky, pulling his attention away from his book.

  
The box was well worn, slightly dusty, and perfectly average, but Steve was looking at it sadly.

  
“What’s in the box?” 

  
“It was Peggy’s.” Steve explained, his tone somber. “Sharen sent it over. It’s, uh, tapes. Recording of Peggy and the Commandos after.” He didn’t have to explain after what. 

  
Bucky pulled the lid off and dropped it over behind the couch. There was maybe a half dozen tapes piled haphazardly on the bottom. “Huh.”

  
“Sharon never got around to watching them, but she thought I might want them.”

  
Bucky pulled the top one out. “Okay then. Stick one in. Let’s see what we got.”

  
“You want to watch them with me?”

  
Bucky rolled his eyes. “Yeah, punk. I do.” 

  
Steve took the tape from Bucky’s hand and got it started, then dropped onto the couch beside him, leaning slightly to rest against Bucky’s new arm.

  
The first one seemed to take place around Christmas time, with lights and garland in the background, and it showed Peggy, and a few of the Howling Commandos; Jim and Gabe. The next one was similar, taking place at an unspecified time. They appeared to be simply slices of life, but Bucky enjoyed watching them, and he knew Steve loved seeing it is the way he grabbed Bucky’s hand and squeezed was any indication. 

  
He had to admit, it was nice to see the men he’d fought beside get this bit of peace afterwards. He knew it meant more to Steve more than it did him – Bucky’s memories were still often foggy and pieced together - but these people were good people, and they watched the tapes smiling.

  
Clint and Natasha came up from the gym halfway through the third one. Clint flipped himself over into the arm chair, and Natasha perched on the couch beside Steve, peering curiously at the screen. 

  
Bruce wandered in sometime during the next one, curious because Howard Stark was on screen, with Peggy and Gabe and sometimes an older man Bucky didn’t recognize that Howard called Edwin.

  
Steve flipped on another one, and it started by showing a wide view of an impressive sitting room, with Peggy and Timothy Dugan sitting and smiling at a young boy – maybe ten or eleven – who stood in front of them.

  
“Is that… Tony?” Bruce asked.

  
Bucky looked closer. The boy did have floppy brown hair and wide eyes and bounced eagerly on the balls of his feet while he spoke, like the grownup Tony sometimes did when excited about something.

  
“I’m going to be Captain America’s soulmate.” The young Tony blurted out to them.

  
Clint laughed. “That’s adorable. Tony was a Cap fan.”

  
Dugan looked at him, his mouth still smiling but tainted with sadness. “Ahh, kid. Cap’s gone, and he ain’t coming back.”

  
Tony shook his head. “No, sir. My dad’s been looking for him. He’s going to find him. And I’ll be waiting for him.”

  
Dugan sighed wearily and murmured something that sounded like, “Oh, Howard.” But was so quiet it wasn’t quite clear. 

  
“Don’t you think I’d make a good soulmate?” Tony asked, his voice wobbling. 

  
Peggy shot Dugan a mean look and then hurried to assure the boy in front of them. “You will make a wonderful soulmate, Tony. Anyone would be lucky to have you. Especially…” Peggy hesitated, but did manage to force the words out. “…especially Captain America” 

  
But it was too late. Bucky could see it in the set of Tony’s small shoulders and the downwards cast of his eyes. The rejection had clearly been felt. 

  
Bucky rubbed at his chest with his flesh hand, as if he could alleviate some of the second-hand pain that echoed in his chest. Then he glanced over at his soulmate. If seeing this made his long-cold heart ache like this, how was Steve, who had always been more sensitive then Bucky, handling it? 

  
Steve seemed to sense his gaze and met his eyes, bright with pain. Bucky had only been filled in vaguely about how the team meet, and the time before he had come to the Tower, but Steve had shared that when they met Tony had certainly not been a Captain America fan anymore.

  
On screen Peggy seemed to take in Tony’s deflated figure, and she tried to reassure him. “Don’t you worry, Anthony. One day soon you’ll get your Soulmark, and I promise you will be perfect for them.”

  
Tony’s expression changed again, a little more hopeful. His hands played nervously with the hem of his shirt. “Oh, Aunt Peggy, I already got my-“

  
“Anthony Stark!” A man’s voice practically roared, making all the Avengers in the room sit up a little straighter. Heavy footsteps got louder until the familiar figure of Howard Stark entered the frame - slightly more grey than Bucky or Steve had ever seen him, but otherwise the same. 

  
He marched right up to Tony, and his hand reached out and pulled the boy around so they were facing, and if he hadn’t been watching so closely, Bucky might have missed the flash of something across Tony’s face. Something more then just a child knowing they were in trouble with their parent. A grownup emotion that looked out of place on his round face.

  
“Pegs, Timothy, would you excuse us?” Howard asked through gritted teeth. 

  
“Howard-“

  
He cut her off. “I need to speak to my son, alone.” He enunciated the words carefully. 

  
Dugan took Peggy’s arm to get her to leave. Howard waited until they were out of earshot before speaking. 

  
“What did I tell you, Anthony?” He asked, with no give in his voice. Bucky had to remind himself that there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t stop Howard from holding his son like that, couldn’t take the fearful look from wide brown eyes. It had already happened. 

  
“You are _never_ to tell anyone about your mark. Do you hear me? Never.”

  
“I’m sorry.” Tony said.

  
“What the _fuck_.” Clint muttered. “I didn’t even think Tony _had_ a mark.”

  
Bucky looked at over at him. 

  
Then, on screen, Howard demanded “Show it to me.”

  
Tony didn’t even hesitate, and Bucky wondered not only why Howard needed to see his mark, but also at how Tony did it, peeling the material up past his ribs like his father had demanded it of him a dozen times before. (He had.) It was just _strange_. There was a piece that Bucky was still missing from the video. 

  
The mark itself must have been on the side facing away from the camera, because Bucky didn’t glimpse anything but a flash of pale skin. 

  
“Promise me, Anthony. No one can see this. This – this isn’t… it will never happen. Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t _talk about it_.”

  
“But I just thought… it’s just Peggy. She knows-“

  
“No.”

  
And Bucky couldn’t believe how sad it made him to see the man he knew to be so full of life and energy and vinegar retreat into himself like that. 

  
Howard sent his son to his room, then he left the room as well. The video continued to play, the camera clearly still running but forgotten, and after a few minutes of them waiting in silence for more that clearly wasn’t coming, Steve stopped the tape.

  
Bruce spoke first. “That was weird wasn’t it? It’s not just me?”

  
“It’s not just you.” Natasha confirmed. 

  
“Howard was kind of a dick.” Clint added. 

  
“Why wouldn’t Howard want Tony to show his mark?” Bucky mussed aloud.

  
“Must have been someone bad.” Clint suggested. 

  
“Or someone _important_.” Bruce corrected thoughtfully. 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Sometimes later that night, after Steve and Bucky retreated to their bedroom and the door slid shut behind them, Bucky rounded on Steve. “So, what are we gonna do about this?”

  
Steve’s brows creased, uncomprehending. “About what?”

  
“About _Tony_.” Bucky huffed. 

  
Steve frowned. “Yeah. I wasn’t expected that. Howard wasn’t… that wasn’t the kind of thing a father should do.”

  
He agreed. He didn’t like seeing Tony seeing manhandled like that. And wasn’t that something to unpack, but it wasn’t what Bucky wanted to talk about right now. It wasn’t what had his brain all jumbled with feeling he couldn’t quite place. “Steve, what Howard said to him, about his mark –“

  
“I know. I can’t believe he said that to his _kid_.” 

  
“It means he has a soulmate out there somewhere, but he’s here alone!” He couldn’t stand to see the genius so lonely. He wasn’t quite sure why it bothered him so much, but seeing present Tony in contrast to past Tony and knowing that he had never found that soulmate, especially when Bucky himself was lucky enough to have found his on three separate occasions through his very long life. 

  
“Buck – “

  
“No. Stevie. We’ve got to find them, make them see that –“

  
“Bucky, slow down.” Steve interrupted, reaching back to put his hands on either side of his soulmates face, leaning in until their foreheads touched, and Bucky’s eyes briefly slid shut. “Tony knows who his soulmate was. Was. They died. Pepper told me.”

  
Bucky’s heart dropped like a stone. “No. Fuck. Ah, god, Tony deserves a soulmate.” Bucky’s mind was whirring. This wasn’t fair. It sure as hell wasn’t right, and he could see it in Steve’s eyes that he agreed with him. 

  
Staring at Steve, something that felt a little bit like guilt bloomed hard and fast in his chest at the errant thought that _Bucky’s_ soulmate had come back from the dead, and why couldn’t Tony be so lucky? 

  
“What are we gonna do, Stevie?” 

  
And thankfully there was Steve, the man with the plan, who had never let him down, who looked in his eyes and promised his soulmate, “Well, we’ll just have to be there for him, won’t we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...annnd they will realize the seriousness of Tony's innocent question soon enough...


	6. Chapter 6

It took a while for Tony to realize something had shifted. He was a genius with a mind that could outstrip most, but sometimes social cues and patterns escaped him.

  
Which is why when he first took stock that Steve and Bucky’s behavior was slightly out of their normal parameters, he couldn’t even pinpoint exactly where or why it had began. Yes, Tony enjoyed hanging out with both of them. Yes, he would even go so far as to call them both _friends_ , but this was something indefinable. 

  
Actually, in one of this sleepless work binges, one word had actually come to mind. 

  
It felt like they were _courting_ him. 

  
Expect Tony knew how ridiculous that was. He was a genius, after all. That didn’t stop him from asking the only reliable, close-lipped confident he had. 

  
“It’s impossible, right? I mean, they’re stupidly happy together. They’re soulmates for crying out loud.”

  
“Sir, I believe you also carry the same Soulmark.” 

  
Tony frowned up at the ceiling. “Irrelevant.”

  
“On the contrary, I think it’s quite relevant.” The AI replied.

  
“I thought you were supposed to be on my side, J. Besides, this stupid mark is a mistake.”

  
“There has never been a record of a Soulmark ‘mistake’ before, sir.”

  
“Yeah, well, no one else has survived that serum, or lived this long like that. Besides, it's not like they know.”

  
“Some would call it fate.”

  
Tony snorted. 

  
“Perhaps you should ask Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes.”

  
“Alright. We are never talking about this again.” Besides, it was _greedy_ , wasn’t it? That first he’s wanted Steve, and then Bucky had come along and he’d started to want both? That didn’t have anything to do with the stupid brand on his body. It was just par for the course, with him. Always wanting bigger and better. More and more. But he wouldn’t be responsible for putting a strain on Steve and Bucky’s relationship. He couldn’t do that to them. 

  
“As you wish, sir.” 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
‘Sir, I have a message for you from Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes.” 

  
Tony paused in his actions, setting down the wrench and wiping his forearm against his sweaty forehead. “Yeah?”

  
“Message reads: Reservation at La Table des Chefs. 8pm. If you’re free.”

  
Tony’s first thought was it was damn good thing he had set the wrench down, or he would have dropped it on his toes. “That… sounds like a date, right? I’m not crazy. J, what day is it?”

  
“Friday.” 

  
That… that had to be a date. Right? Why else would they ask him to meet them at one of his favorite restaurants, where the plates cost enough to make the average joe run for the hills, on a Friday? Friday nights were very typically date nights. And Bucky had been asking him about restaurants just a few days ago. 

  
No, no. Don’t get your hopes up, he reminded himself firmly. This could just be… but he couldn’t come with another reasonable explanation. If they just wanted to grab dinner, they would have brought a pizza down to the lab and shared it there like they’d done last week. 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Tony realized sometime later after a lengthy shower in an attempt to remove all the grease smears, that he hadn’t actually been on a date in a long time. Even with Pepper, it was more company outings or press conferences.

  
He scrubbed his fingertips as best he could before giving it up as a lost cause. He chose his favorite button up, designer jeans, and a black suit jacket. He decided not to gel his hair. He wasn’t putting up appearances tonight. 

  
A part of him actually thought maybe they would all drive to the restaurant together, but when he left his room, there wasn’t anyone around, so he assumed the boys would be making their own way. But that was okay too. 

  
The maitre’d led him to an already occupied table, but as soon as he saw the slim figure seated there, he turned to inform his seater of the mistake. Before he could open his mouth however, the woman at the table blurted out happily,

  
“Hey! Tony!”

  
And something that felt unfortunately like reality settled heavy in his gut. 

  
“You know me. Not uncommon, but why don’t I know you?” Tony asked, keeping his voice as level as he could. 

  
The pretty brunette woman was smiling happily at him. “I’m Ada. And, well, Steve – you know _Steve_ – we’ve chatted a few times. I work under Maria Hill, actually. I’ve seen you before too. But Steve – he’s always so nice – he said that, maybe, we’d get along, and since you’re here…” 

  
Her smile dimmed the longer Tony went without saying anything, until finely she nodded to herself and said: “You… thought someone else was coming.” It wasn’t a question.

  
“Don’t take it personal.” He said, trying to mentally slap himself. When was the last time he was this throw for a loop? He’d been on uncomfortable blind dates before, but never one set up by the two men that he...

  
Fuck, he’d gotten this absolutely, disastrously wrong. It was almost laughable. And he hadn’t even brought a pair of sunglasses. He didn’t think he would need them to hide behind tonight. 

  
But he could do this. Put on a smile and not screw up.

  
“Ada, I’m sorry, but I’m not looking for anything. Steve –“ ( _don’t fucking flinch when you choke out his name!_ ) “-was misinformed I think. But… no sense letting the night go to waste. Order whatever you would like, my treat of course. And, uh, tell me about yourself.” 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
It was by no means a _bad_ night. Ada was intelligent and, although a bit more subdued after the introductions, a good conversationalist. In fact, she reminded Tony a bit of Pepper, and he wondered sadly if that’s why Steve thought they would be compatible. 

  
And it ached in a slow, persistent way that made him remember why he didn’t get his hopes up anymore. 

  
When she left after, she thanked him sincerely for the lovely evening, and Tony smiled gently at her, beyond relieved that that would be the last time he had to force his mouth to do that tonight. 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
When Tony made it back to the Tower, he almost hoped he would be able to slink undetected to his room, but the two Supersoldiers must have been waiting for him, because they were lounging in the common area on the couch together, Bucky’s legs up on the coffee table, and Steve’s feet over his legs. 

  
Tony couldn’t help himself from stopping, and meeting both gazes.

  
“You… set me up on a date?” He asked slowly, not even sure why. As if he needed confirmation that they had done it on purpose, that that was what they thought Tony _wanted_.

  
“Yep.” Steve said happily. 

  
“Oh.”

  
 _Oh_.

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Tony dropped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time before he fumbled around for his phone and made the call. If anyone could make him feel better, if anyone could make him _understand_ it would be Rhodey. A wonderfully familiar voice picked up on the forth ring. 

  
“Rhodes here.”

  
“Rhodey bear.”

  
His best friends voice softened substantially when he spoke next. “Tony, hey! Are you okay?” 

  
“Um. Yes? Where are you?”

  
James hesitated a moment, as if his attention was focused elsewhere, before he said. “I actually can’t tell you, Tones.”

  
“Oh. You’re working.” Tony murmured. 

  
“Are you okay?” James asked again, his voice fading in and out as if he couldn’t give his full attention to the speaker. “Are you hurt?”

  
“Nah, nothing like that. Just wanted to talk to you. Can’t I do that?”

  
“Of course… just… can I call you back? I’m kind of in the middle of something. You’re sure you’re not hurt?” 

  
_Not in any way you can fix_. Tony bit his tongue. “Yeah, Honeybear. Be safe.”

  
James muttered something else that was probably the same sentiment, and then the line went dead. Tony tossed his phone on the other side of his bed and sighed. Then he had JARVIS pull up the monitors on the War Machine armour and asked him to keep an eye on James’ steady vitals. Just in case. 

  
“Fuck.” He hissed, then louder. “Fuck!” 

  
Tony grabbed at his shirt, yanking it carelessly from his belt and then he tried to rip it from his body, furious. But those goddamn buttons held like they were welded together instead of sewn with snippets of thread. “Gahh!” He yelled furiously, and why did he suddenly feel like crying over a few buttons?

  
He pulled the whole thing up and over his head, panting and cursing as his arm caught in one of the sleeves as he tried to launch it across the room. Finely something did rip, and the mangled garment collapsed weakly beside him on the bed. 

  
Tony’s fingers slid across his stomach, bypassed the shining chunk of metal there (his second curse, when he thought about it), and found the almost-invisible edge of the covering that was there.

He peeled it back so he could stare down at the perfect, unblemished mark, and wondered for the thousandth time why it had remained completely undamaged. Why couldn’t shrapnel have decimated that too. Then he could have at least said that one good thing had come out of those caves. 

  
He dropped his head back on the mattress and closed his eyes, and tried to block out his father's all-too-clear voice rattling around in his head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So um... sorry? Wow, I kind of can't believe I wrote this chapter. Steve went so far in the wrong direction here! But don't worry, I plan to fix everything! 
> 
> And thank you all for all your support with this story! You guys are awesome!


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not find time to respond to the many wonderful reviews you guys left, so I just wanted to say a big thank you so much to everyone who reads and comments! It means the world to me! You are amazing! Thank you, and enjoy!

Steve woke up the next morning beside his soulmate, warm and cozy, Bucky’s face tucked into his shoulder, his hair tickling his cheek. He didn’t move for a few minutes, satisfied to just lay there and know that Bucky was still safe and with him. 

  
Finely he shuffled Bucky off him, and moved to get up, only pausing briefly on the edge of the bed to take in his partners face unconcerned in sleep, and the warm sunlight dappling his back. Steve reached out one hand and ran it lightly across his dark hair, smiling. 

  
As he pulled on his jogging clothes, his thoughts drifted to a different brunette, and he wondered if Tony had got any sleep last night, or if he had stayed up fueled by coffee and determination like he did too many night before. 

  
Steve had to stop himself from asking JARVIS. It wasn’t any of his business, he reminded himself. He just… was so used to looking after Bucky now, that he realized how much Tony needed someone to look after him too. 

  
He pulled on his t-shirt and snuck one last glance at his content soulmate, feeling a tinge _guilty_ for thinking about Tony at a time like this. He let the wide-eyed engineer occupy too many of his thoughts already, and these brief ones that he feel pray to on quiet mornings like this, thoughts of tucking the man into his own bed just to ensure he got a decent nights sleep? Were far from appropriate. 

  
Yep. He needed that run to clear his head. Again. 

  
He had hoped that if he could find Tony _someone_ , that they would both benefit. Tony ought to have someone to care for him in his life, and it would alleviate some of Steve’s preoccupation with him. 

  
Yes, last night had clearly been a bust, but Steve could keep trying. 

  
Even though it was a gorgeous day, Steve didn’t feel like putting in the effort to run outside, and instead headed to the fully equipped gym they had available, that catered to everything the could ever want, including an excellent running track. 

  
Tony did so much for them all. 

  
And now he was thinking about the surprising man again. 

  
He did his laps, but the energy was still there, so when Natasha came down and invited him to spare with her, he accepted gladly.

  
A few minutes in, she asked him, “You feeling okay, Steve?”

  
“Yeah. Course.” He replied parrying back and forth. 

  
“You seem a little keyed up, there.” She commented. “Want to talk about it?”

  
Steve considered it for a moment, but out of any of them, Natasha was the most likely to have some insight on the issue that had been weighing on him as his feet beat the ground this morning.

“Actually… it’s about Tony.”

  
Natasha cocked her head, a slight frown playing on her face. “Tony.”

  
“Yeah… he’s, well. Buck and I thought he was, ya know, lonely, so we thought, a date… might be just the thing for him.”

  
He met Natasha’s gaze and was surprised to see her smiling at him. “You and Bucky and him out on a date?” 

  
Steve frowned. Him and Bucky and… Tony? The _three_ of them. That couldn’t be what she meant, could it? Yes, there were things he still hadn’t learned about the twenty-first century but a _three-way relationship?_ With three _men_? Was Nat implying that was something people _did_ nowadays? 

  
He shook his head slightly. “No. With a woman I know. She’s lovely, and I really hoped they would hit it off-“

  
Natasha’s next hit went wide, and the smile dropped from her face. “You set Tony up? Steve?”

  
Steve dropped his arms. “That was… bad?”

  
Her mouth opened but no sound came out. 

  
“Nat?”

  
Her eyes snapped to his, and they blazed. “Steve. You stupid, oblivious bastard.” And then she turned and stormed off.

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Steve left the gym, and he showered, and his mind buzzed. He had screwed up. Natasha had made that abundantly clear. Had his efforts really been that unwanted? Except… Tony had obviously been okay to go on a date…. It was just the _person_ they got wrong? 

  
Did Nat mean she thought that Tony would want to go on a… on a date with him and Bucky? Because she would know, Steve thought, Nat could read people like no one he’d ever seen before, and if she thought it, well then. 

  
And did Steve _want_ that? 

  
And, well, shit. That made _Steve_ a bad person, didn’t it? Because his soulmate was a handful of floors above him and Steve loved him and he shouldn’t even be thinking about this because Bucky was due better from him. 

  
Okay. He could deal with this. 

  
“Hey, JARVIS?”

  
“Yes, Captain Rogers?” 

  
“Where’s Tony?”

  
“Sir is sleeping at the moment.”

  
Steve’s eyebrows shot up. That wasn’t something he heard very often. But at least it meant Steve could go upstairs and grab some breakfast and not have to worry about running into the genius will his brain was all messed up with this. 

  
Okay. Okay then. 

  
Bucky and Bruce were already in the kitchen, Bruce carrying on a conversation, and Bucky grunting at appropriate times from behind his bagels. Steve smiled fondly. He _loved this man_. There was no doubt in his mind when he saw him. So why did his thoughts keep trailing back to Tony? He certainly didn’t think about Bruce or Clint that much. Sure, he worried over them, where they happy? Where they okay? But he didn’t want to tuck them into bed himself just to make sure they got a few hours of shut eye every night. He didn’t want to ask JARVIS to notify him when they woke up so he could subtly prompt them into having solids with their breakfast. 

  
Part of that was certainly that they didn’t need it. The team had more or less healthy lifestyles as a whole. But Tony… it kept coming back to Tony. 

  
“Steve.” Bucky grunted, shoving one of his bagels into his hand. 

  
Steve smiled down at him as he took it, then dropped into the chair beside him. Bucky knocked their legs together under the table in a greeting. 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Unfortunately, the day did not continue on as per usual. Half ways through their breakfast the Avengers alarm blared, and food was abandoned in their haste to suit up. 

  
“JARVIS? Where is everyone?” Steve asked as he and Bruce hurried to the jet.

  
“Miss Romanoff and Mr. Barton are waiting for you already. Sir will be there in two minutes.”

  
Three minutes later the were in the air.

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Forty minutes later the team was scattered around in the middle of a clusterfuck in the middle of the city made of poor intel and underestimated alien tech and Steve cursed Nick Fury. He didn’t have eyes on either Tony or Natasha, and he was barking commands just to keep his team moving as he tried to herd a dozen terrified civilians out of the line of fire. 

  
“Hey, Cap,” Barton called over the comms, “What are the chancing of getting some back up in here?”

  
“Anyone near Hawkeye?” Steve barked, practically shoving the couple in front of him to keep them out of the failing debris from the office buildings that were falling prey to the aliens’ weapons. “Can you hold on, Clint?” He asked when there was no offering over the commlink. “I’m coming.”

  
“Hey, I’ve got J running analysis, and he’s saying bee hive, guys.”

  
“Bee hive?” Clint moaned. “What the hell?”

  
“Hive mind! Whatever! These aliens are like fucking drones, but I think I can get in there and shut ‘em down. Cap?”

  
Steve only hesitated a second. He knew it would be dangerous, but they were losing ground here and choices were slim, and if anyone could accomplish it, it would be Tony. “Go for it, Iron Man.”

  
He wasn’t even entirely sure how it happened, because he couldn’t even see Tony, all he knew was Tony was in the belly of the beast working his genius and Steve had finely made it over to watch Clint’s back, and the two of them were knee deep in alien bodies, hyped up on desperation and adrenaline when suddenly there were just… no more to fight. 

  
“Avengers – report!” 

  
Steve could hear the Hulk somewhere a street over, over the background noise of car alarms. “Black Widow, Iron Man. What’s your status?” 

  
A burst of static over the line, and then Tony’s voice came on, too out of breath for comfort. “Could use some help over here, Cap.” 

  
He and Clint raced to them, following Tony’s half-hearted instructions. They were two blocks down, and Steve would have missed them if not for the glint of gold under the rubble spilling onto the street, but it was more then that. Sheets of concrete and beams of metal and crashed cars and Steve realized with horror that his teammates were underneath a collapsed car garage. 

  
“Tony?”

  
“We’re okay. Mostly. But Nat’s unconscious and I can’t get her out and hold up this thing.”

  
“It’s okay. We’re here. We got this. Clint? You get ready to pull her out.” 

  
In the few minutes it took to get their teammates out, Bruce managed to return to himself and join them. 

  
“Alright. Time to get out of here. Back to the tower.” Steve said calmly, even as he pulled Natasha carefully up into his arms, and watched Tony stumble to the side as he tried to stand up straight. “Iron Man, are you going to make it to the jet?”

  
“The jet? No problem. Might pass out when I get there, though.” 

  
Steve wished there was something he could do for him now, but not out in the streets. Not in the middle of all the wreckage and dust and blood. Even if the dents and breaks in Tony’s armour screamed that he needed immediate medical attention. 

  
Tony’s prediction wasn’t too far off. They got up the ramp, Steve placed Natasha down on the closest med bed, and Tony crumbled trying to sit down, the Iron Man suit making a horrible, final clang as it knocked bodily against the floor. 

  
“Bruce – can you look at Nat?” Steve demanded, and he and Clint dropped down beside Tony and maneuvered him onto his back. 

  
“Gotta get the suit off.” Clint muttered. 

  
Steve hesitated, unsure. “JARVIS? Can you help us?”

  
There was a hiss and a click, and the suit unlocked, and Steve hastily started pulled pieces off. He didn’t notice Natasha coming to, or Bruce helping her sit up, but he did register her whispered words. “My fault. I wasn’t quick enough. If Tony hadn’t been there…”

  
The engineer was only dressed in jeans and a rumbled T-shirt, and Steve remembered that Tony had been asleep when the call came through. Tony’s eyes were closed, and his forehead was smeared with blood, but Steve knew head wounds bled a lot. Instead he was looking at the man’s chest, where the suit had been damaged, and he worried about caved in ribs or ruptured organs from those chunks of concrete and _how much weight could the suit hold, anyways_?

  
“Tony?” He murmured, a tiny part of him hoping to see the man respond to his name.

  
“He’s still breathing okay.” Clint said. “Mostly okay.” The archer reached down, and Steve watched his hands as he pulled up Tony’s shirt to check his chest, horrified that there could be damage to the reactor that Steve knew kept him alive, his heart pounding a mile a minute praying, _Please be alright_.

  
And then Tony’s chest was bare, and Steve looked down, and his heart just

  
stopped. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo…. yes. This is probably the MOST CLICHE way for this to go down, but I did it anyways!


	8. Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers, you are all so wonderful! You're comments were amazing and I love you all for reading!

“…shit… at least two, nah, three broken for sure… get him to the Tower… we can call…” Clint’s voice sounded staticky in Steve’s ears, fading in and out. He shook himself, trying to focus. It was important. 

  
“…Don’t worry, man. He’ll be fine.” Clint was clearly trying to be reassuring, and it made Steve wonder briefly what kind of expression was on his face that made the usually facetious Avenger feel the need to console him. 

  
Clint stared at him, clearly waiting for an answer.

  
Steve had to clear his throat before he could speak, and it was just a croak. “Sure.” He managed. 

  
Clint frowned at him, but then turned back to their fallen teammate, continuing to check him over as best he could with his hands and his eyes as the jet sped them towards the Tower and the real medical experts. 

  
Steve’s gaze snapped up and he realized how strange he was acting. This wasn’t the time or the place. It was invasive to see Tony’s mark in this way, and even though _Holy shit that matched the mark on Steve’s own skin_ , it wasn’t for Steve to have found out that way. But, now that he had seen it… there was no way to unsee it. No way he could forget now. 

  
Something bubbled in Steve’s throat – something that felt a lot like hope. “It’s mine.” He whispered. Those clear lines etched flawlessly onto pale skin, it was his just as much as Bucky’s. 

  
“Hmm?” Clint didn’t even look up, and Steve was reminded again that he wasn’t alone and this wasn’t the goddamn _time_. He had to be the leader right now. He had to get his teammates into medbay. They had to debrief. He had to give Fury a piece of his mind. 

  
And he had to talk to Bucky.

  
They could deal with this after.

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Steve carried Tony off the jet.

  
Bruce and Clint hovered over Natasha, trying to act as crutches and he was happy to leave her in their competent hands.

  
Tony wasn’t a small man, but with Steve’s serum-enhanced muscles he could cradle him effortlessly bridal-style. 

  
The nurse that intercepted them directed Steve to the closest room, and he gently placed Tony on the bed there. His hair was ruffled and his shirt was rumbled and he looked for all the world like he was just sleeping, not wounded and out cold.

  
He hated to leave him undefended under the care of the doctors and nurses, but JARVIS told him that Pepper Potts had been notified and was on her way, and Steve knew that the AI would keep watch over his creator. 

  
The doctor all but pushed him from the room so they could work, with a vague promise that he would be alerted when Tony was able to have visitors. 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Steve met Bucky in the hall, the ex-assassin clearly on his way down to medbay. Bucky must have heard that’s where they all were and come to check on them. Steve herded Bucky back up to their room for privacy before he told him what he had seen, the words spilling from his lips with no chance of holding them in. 

  
“… and it was just there. Our mark.” He finished with a shrug. 

  
“You’re sure?” Bucky said slowly.

  
“As soon as he wakes up we’ll tell him.” Steve said decisively, his mind already jumping ahead. The genius wouldn’t be lonely anymore. “We’ll tell him he has our Soulmark.”

  
Bucky’s voice was hollow. “He already knows.”

  
“What?”

  
“Tony. He already knows. He’s the one who put my mark on the arm.” Bucky whispered, his face pinched unhappily, his flesh hand reaching up to where the engineer had tattooed his Soulmark so effortlessly onto the metal. “Our mark.” He amended. 

  
Lead settled in Steve’s gut. 

  
It was a minute before he replied, as the full extant of Bucky’s statement sunk in.

  
“He’s always known, then.” Steve realized painfully. The video from Peggy’s box. The secret Howard told him to keep. The fact that Tony had told Pepper, all those years ago, that his soulmate was dead. Because Steve had still be in the ice and Bucky had been MIA. That’s what it all meant. 

  
Expect they were here. Safe and sound and alive and whole. And Tony had still chose to keep it hidden from them.

  
Tony knew, and he didn’t want them? Steve couldn’t believe that. There had to some mistake. Some misunderstanding. 

  
Bucky’s eyes mirrored the pain stabbing at Steve’s heart. “All this time…” He trailed off, not sure how to put his emotions into words. 

  
“We have another soulmate.” Bucky breathed. 

  
“Bucky. Are you okay with that?” Steve had to ask, because his feelings were rolling and his head felt too full and he couldn’t, even for a second, have Bucky think that because of this discovery that Steve would ever love him or want him _less_. 

  
“Okay with that? Steve, it’s _Tony_.” Bucky said slowly. “He’s… he’s, well, Tony.”

  
And didn’t that just sum it up? 

  
“It makes sense.” Steve mused aloud, desperately. The way he couldn’t stop watching the man. The way he wanted to hold him and feed him and brush his hair back from those captivating hazel eyes. The thoughts that had made him feel like he was being unfaithful to Bucky for, were actually because it was supposed to be the three of them. They were supposed to fit together and Steve could _see_ it now. 

  
“Okay, we just have to talk to him. We just have to let Tony know that we know.” Steve had never felt so much like bawling or grinning at the same time, and his cheeks hurt from the warring emotions. “… Bucky, we have to go see him.” 

  
They could tell him, they could convince him… they could fix this. 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Their impulsive plan never made it farther then the door to the medbay room Tony was occupying, though. They were intercepted by a dangerous redhead, slightly wobbly on her feet but no less fierce for it. 

  
“Natasha-“

  
“ _Please_ Steve, do not tell me you were going to go in there and confront Tony about what you saw _right_ _now_.” 

  
“It’s alright.” Steve said. “If you just understood-“ 

  
Natasha scoffed, glaring at them both. “I _understand_ that you _hurt_ _Tony_. Yeah, sure, maybe you didn’t have all the facts, but this isn’t just about you two anymore, and he really does not need two dumbass supersoldiers bursting in there and thinking that a mark fixes everything. Just because you know something now does not excuse what happened before.”

  
“We just want to see him.” Bucky said gruffly.

  
“Do you think he wants to see you?” Natasha raised one perfect eyebrow, not giving them a chance to answer. “Regardless, he is all pumped full of pain meds, and you will not force him to have this conversation while he is trapped in that bed. If you care about him at all, you will be _patient_.” She hissed the last part. 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Natasha wouldn’t be moved, and Steve hated that she thought she had to protect Tony from them.   
Bucky was the one to pull him away, muttering curses in Russian as they left.

  
Steve’s mind hadn’t stopped, and as soon as they were alone again, back in their room with the door shut a little harder than was strictly necessary, he spoke, voicing something else he’d been mulling over. 

  
“Nat said something to me this morning.” Steve began. “I actually thought she meant that Tony might want to be with us. If Nat thought it, it must be true, right? She seems to know people better then anyone. But… Tony knew, and he could have told us at any time, but he chose not too. So Nat must have been wrong.”

  
Bucky reached over and told his hand, holding it tightly, reassuring him without words that he knew and it was okay. That they were okay. 

  
Steve smiled sadly at him. 

  
“We’re just gonna wait a bit, until Tony’s up and running again.” Bucky said. “We waited this long. I waited seventy years for you.” He reminded Steve gently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo…. this chapter was interesting. In my head this chapter was supposed to be from Tony's pov, until I sat down to start writing and realized I had left Tony unconscious on the floor. I certainly struggled a bit with this one, and I just hope it wasn't too terrible for you all. 
> 
> And we will get back to Tony's pov next!!! (cause it's my favorite)


	9. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh! You are all the best fans anyone could ask for! I love you all and your beautiful reviews! Thank you!! :D

Tony did not like waking up in hospital beds. Even if it was hospital bed bought and paid for by him, six floors underneath his own bedroom. He suspected it stemmed from a life of keeping secrets and being stabbed in the back. Pepper had once said that his trust issues had trust issues, and he hadn’t disagreed. Waking up in a place he had clearly not chosen was nerve-wracking.

  
Not to mention the all too vivid reminders of coming home from Afghanistan and trying to keep the hunk of metal fit into the gaping hole in a chest a secret from everyone around him.

  
Then of course, there was _that_ secret. The one he had successfully kept under wraps for over thirty years.

So waking up alone in an off-white room only to discover that the absolute worst had happened, and underneath his standard issue blanket his chest was _bare_ and _exposed_ and very prominently decorated with black and yellow ink, well, that was not good for his worn-out heart. 

  
He hadn’t even noticed right off, his paranoia taking a few minutes to reboot once he opened his eyes. He’d absolutely noticed the familiar ache in his ribs, and the added pressure to every breath he took. A headache had showed itself by little bursts of fireworks behind his eyelids. But these things had all happened before.   
There was of course his internal grumbling at _why_ hadn’t he been left to his own devices like usual. He could have retreated to his room and pulled out the industrial sized med kit he kept there for exactly this reason. He had had broken ribs before, he knew how to move around with them. He didn’t need a doctor’s direction. 

  
Although, the more he thought about the more he recalled dropping down hard when one of those bursts of pain in his synapsis had been just a little too much. So he thought for a few minutes he could probably find it in himself to forgive whichever over-eager teammate thought he had needed medical attention.   
Until he had lifted the edge of the blanket to see just how much visible damage there was and he saw skin. Horribly bare skin and remembered in a burst of trepidation the reason he did not do doctors. 

  
It clawed up under his skin, beat against his achy heart. 

  
The panic at being _exposed_. 

“J?” He croaked. “You there?”

  
“Always, sir.” JARVIS replied promptly. “I have taken the liberty of alerting Miss Potts of your awaking. She will be by presently.”

  
Until then, Tony just tried to _breathe_. 

  
The door swung open, and Pepper breezed in, shutting it firmly behind her. She smiled widely at Tony, but it dimmed a little when she met his eyes, and he wondered how vulnerable he looked. 

  
“Tony!”

  
“Pep. Something happened.”

  
Her face turned serious immediately. “What do you mean?” 

  
“Someone removed my patch.”

  
Pepper’s mouth pulled down into a frown as she realized what he meant. “Tony, you weren’t wearing it when you came in.”

  
Oh no no no _no_. “But then the doctors must have seen. Anyone could have seen.”

  
“I know you’re uncomfortable with it, Tony, but is it really such a big deal? The doctors have all signed NDA’s. You’re as safe as you can be.” Pepper said calmly. 

  
“Make them sign more!”

  
“Tony!” Pepper said sharply. “Please stop freaking out on me. I will handle it, since it means so much to you. I will handle this, and you will rest!”

  
He blinked up at her, and she sighed. 

  
“Don’t worry about this. This is what you pay me for, remember?” She joked softly, “JARVIS will help me compile a list of all the medical staff. It will be taken care of.”

  
He sank back into his pillows. He could always trust Pepper. 

  
“Okay.” He whispered.

  
“Okay.” She echoed, and she left as efficiently as she had arrived. 

  
At his request, JARVIS relayed everything he had missed. The Avengers briefing, the damage report, the doctors summary. Not that Tony really listened to that. There was not much the doctor’s could do for broken ribs on an average person, expect prescribe some pain meds. Easy walking, shifting positions. Try to avoid laughing (not that he had much to laugh about anyways). They couldn’t use pins and plates – surgery was out completely with the shape of his chest cavity, so he would just suffer through it. Tony glanced up at the ceiling and sighed. Then he glanced around the room, cataloguing everything. He counted to five. Ten. A hundred. 

  
“This is fucking ridiculous.” He muttered, and he slowly maneuvered his tender body off the bed. He was all too conscious of every minute shift, every brush of damaged bone against the arc reactor casing. He reached over and flicked off the machines reading his vitals before he peeled off the sensors and shuffled over to the chair by the door with his clothes folded neatly on the seat. 

  
Getting dressed took an embarrassingly long time, but the relief at having something substantial covering up that _stupid, useless, pointless, ugl_ y mark was immeasurable. 

  
“JARVIS, be a darling and find me a clear path to the elevator, would ya?”

  
“Right away, sir.” 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
“Hey, J. What happened to the suit?”

  
“Captain Rogers took it to your lab for you, sir.” 

  
“Alright. Let’s go there.”

  
Down in his lab was safe in a way that few other places in his life had seemed to be. It was _his_ , and with a few words to JARVIS no one could disturb him even if they wanted to, and he kind of needed that security after being so exposed earlier. 

  
He swiveled around in his chair. He couldn’t really work on repairs right now. He was stupid - not suicidal, but he could catalogue the damage and start prioritizing his work list.

  
Some hours later, JARVIS interrupted him. “Sir, Dr. Banner has asked me to inform you that there is leftover lasagna in the fridge.”

  
Tony glanced down at his less then productive project and sighed. Okay then. Good time for a break. 

  
+-+-+-+-+

  
Looking back, he would wonder why he thought the trip to acquire food would be _easy_. One dark-haired soldier boy was on him before he had even managed to heat up his leftovers. 

  
“So.” Bucky said, matter of fact. “Stevie says you’re our soulmate.”

  
Tony promptly choked on his own tongue. 

  
When he could speak, he managed to lie as unaffectedly as possible. “Nope.”

  
Bucky raised one very unimpressed eyebrow, and Tony felt his heart leap against his banged up ribcage in a painful way that wasn’t all physical. The soldier dropped one heavy hand against the table that separated the two men, and his knuckles dragged as he moved around the table, those long legs eating up the distance between them effortlessly in a menacing manor he probably didn’t enough even realize he had adopted. Tony always stood his ground, but the way Bucky’s intent, dark eyes made him feel like prey in this moment left him wanting to flee as Bucky stopped directly in front of him.   
Tony had to look up to meet his eyes. 

  
“Sweetheart… “

  
Tony cursed himself for the fluttering feeling that stupid nickname managed to invoke. 

  
“…why didn’t you tell us?”

  
Maybe it was the leftover drugs in his system, or just a combination of stress and pain and fear, but his temper snapped. “Tell you?” He repeated, incredulously. “Why in the world would I tell you, Barnes? You and Wonderboy are happy as can be together.”

  
“We’d be happier with you.” Bucky said tightly. 

  
He couldn’t hold back his scoff. “With me? If that was the case you wouldn’t go to so much trouble to set me up with other people, would you? You can’t have it both ways.”

  
“We didn’t know-“ 

  
But Tony didn’t really want to hear his excuses. “Look, I know things have been tough for you, and it takes a while to relearn the world, but honestly? That really doesn’t excuse the missed signals. You can’t yank me around like this.”

  
Bucky’s eyes narrowed. He yanked up the shirt sleeve on his metal arm to show the prominent rendering of his (their) mark. “You knew – all those months ago – and you never said a goddamn thing. How’s that for yankin’ somebody around?” 

  
Tony flinched. “You’re not entitled to me because of some mark. Besides, haven’t you realized? There’s _something wrong with it_! There is no way _you two_ would be paired with _me_! I know that!”

  
Now Bucky flinched back, his eyes going wide and his jaw dropping open. “Doll –“

  
But Tony… Tony really didn’t want to talk about it. He had talked about enough over his life. He knew how much it would hurt. He forced his lip to curl into the snarl he had used many times before. “Barnes. Leave me the hell alone before I do something I regret.”

  
Bucky didn’t move when Tony brushed past him. He didn’t stop when Bruce came into the kitchen, probably concerned about the shouting, and said his name in a confused tone. But the scientist didn’t follow him, most likely since Tony was leaving on his own two feet, and the brainwashed soldier was standing shell-shocked in the kitchen. He was clearly the one that needed help.

  
Damn. Somehow that thought managed to hurt too.

  
Out in the hallway he collapsed against the wall, ignoring the flare in his ribs, his whole body exhausted. _What have you done, Tony_? He wondered. _What the fuck have you done_?

  
And now, what was he going to _do_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! This is the last one that's people really hurt. Starting next chapter, we are working our way towards healing! With some much needed help from a few other Avengers, because our boys just can't seem to figure it out on their own. ;)


	10. Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long! And also that I have not replied to all the wonderful comments!   
> And a special thank you to Tellnoone_Noonetells whose comment gave me the kick I needed to get back to this!

When James Rhodes arrived at the Tower, JARVIS let him in without hesitation. It hadn’t been easy to get any time off in the middle of his mission, but Tony had _called_ him, and perhaps in other relationships that didn’t mean much, but James knew his best friend, and he knew what his voice sounded like when he needed to get something off his chest without, you know, actual talking and, God forbid, feelings.

  
So as soon as Tony had called (and he had been able to let his guard down for five minutes and actually step out of his suit), James had started trying to arrange a visit to his best friend. Once Pepper had called him the next day and informed him that Tony was in the medbay and _“I don’t know how bad it is, James, but he’s down and we both know Tony, if he’s staying in that bed it must be serious, I’ll call you when the doctors give me more ”_ he had wrapped things up quicker then he ever had before without loss of integrity or casualties and flown over as soon as he was cleared. 

  
Because Tony was his best friend, yeah, but also because Tony, despite being a genius, did not always realize the importance of looking after himself. And yes, although James had never known Howard well, James had known enough even when Tony was a teenager to see that his father never gave him the care he needed. So, against James’ best efforts to teach him otherwise, it was ingrained in Tony since he was young that he wasn’t important enough, that no one could truly care about just him, not even himself. 

  
Tony tended to revert back to that mentality sometimes, or he ended up overcompensating. So James tried to do everything in his power to remind his friend that Howard’s (and sometimes, the whole damn worlds’) opinions were not true. 

  
So if the phone call yesterday was the first sign that Tony needed a friend, the locked workshop was the second sign. Luckily James had a code for just this kind of thing. 

  
Tony didn’t look up when the door opened, instead he just grouched to his AI, “J. I _told_ you to lock it-“

  
“Tones.” James interrupted. 

  
Tony dropped the wires in his hand unceremoniously and spun around, a weak smile lighting up his face. “Platypus!” 

  
James looked at his friend, and hated that the circles under his eyes were noticeable and those eyes were sad. 

  
“Why are you here?” 

  
James rolled his eyes good-naturedly, but it almost felt like an act, like if he didn’t act nonchalant enough Tony would sniff out his real reason for coming, and he would close down. James had to try and ease him out of it. “I can’t just come see my favorite genius?” 

  
“Did you bring food?”

  
“Muffins.” James confirmed, holding up the paper bag in offering.

  
Tony snatched it from his hand gratefully, and James had a quick moment to take in the many discarded coffee mugs on the adjacent table, but no other dishes. “You’re not eating again.” He commented. 

  
Tony shrugged, mouth full of muffin. “House feels kinda full right now.” He acknowledged, and in Tony-speak that meant he wasn’t being comfortable enough to venture up to the kitchen. 

  
James dropped down the nearby couch and got comfortable. He knew that Tony liked having the Avengers live with him most of the time. Still, he said “Too many people running around? I thought you liked Bruce. And Natasha. And Steve.” He knew about Tony’s crush on the blonde-haired man, even if Tony had never said the words. 

  
Tony’s face crumbled instantly, and James hated that he’d accidently hit the nail on the head. “Rogers? Do I have to talk to him?” He growled. 

  
Tony’s lip twitched, probably imagining James standing against the supersoldier. But it didn’t matter how enhanced the guy was. If he hurt Tony…

  
“Not… really. Not his fault, at least.” 

  
“Tones. What did he do?”

  
“No. I just… made a mess. And people I didn’t want to hurt got hurt. My fault.” 

  
Somehow James couldn’t quite imagine that. Tony could be brash and bold, loud and sometimes narrow-focused, but he wasn’t uncaring, and he certainly didn’t enjoy hurting people. James also knew that the longer he thought about something, the easier Tony could spin it so it sounded like it was his fault in his own head. Another learned trait. 

  
“With Steve?” He inquired gently. 

  
Tony hesitated. “And Bucky.”

  
James watched him, waiting for more.

  
“They’re soulmates, you know. Steve and Bucky.”

  
James hadn’t, but he supposed hearing it wasn’t that surprising. But, oh, he could see the pieces starting to come together, even though Tony didn’t elaborate anymore. Tony must have made a move towards Steve, having been circling around for so long and finely took the leap, and Steve had informed him that he already had a soulmate. Or maybe Bucky Barnes was the one to break the news. 

  
James had only met the former Winter Soldier once, but he was sure he would not have been as kind to Tony while staking his claim. 

  
“Come here, Tones.” James commanded, and the dark-haired man shuffled to the couch without protest, letting his head rest on his shoulder as he sank into the well-worn cushions. James encircled Tony with one arm and just held him, cursing the men who had been so callous with his best friends fragile heart. 

  
It didn’t take much for Tony to nod off, and James wasn’t surprised with the few days he had had. Dum-E brought over a blanket with a beep and James took it gratefully, tucking it around Tony’s shoulders as he repositioned him so he could stand. 

  
He looked over at Dum-E. “Watch over him for me?” He murmured. 

  
The bot beeped his acquiescence. 

  
“JARVIS, buddy, where are Rogers and Barnes?” 

  
“They are both in the gym presently, Colonel Rhodes.” 

  
“Alright then.” James muttered. 

  
The two men were exactly where JARVIS had said, Steve on one of the benches, and Bucky working over a punching bag. 

  
James temper flared just seeing them.

  
Steve noticed his entrance first. “Hey, Rhodes. Good to see you again. Did you come to see Tony?”

  
James hated how he asked that so casually, and the only reason he didn’t hurt him in his pretty face was because he knew he would hurt his hand more. 

  
“Yeah, I came to see Tony. Someone has to look out for him since you two aren’t taking very good care of him.” James spit angerly, absolutely prepared to give them the dressing down they deserved for making Tony so miserable he wouldn’t leave his workshop. 

  
Steve’s face dropped.

  
“He told you?” He asked miserably, standing resignedly. 

  
“Yeah, he told me. How could you treat him that? I thought he was your friend, if nothing else.” James retorted. 

  
Bucky had left the bag and approached them when James had mentioned Tony. “Look,” He said, his usually impassive face forlorn, “We didn’t know, Rhodes. You gotta know that. We had no idea we had a third.”

  
Steve continued, derailing James. “We want to fix this with him. Some things weren’t handled exactly as they should be –“ He cut eyes to the man beside him. “-but we’re going to fix this, we just need another chance.

  
“He didn’t tell us. He could’ve told us.” Bucky muttered under his breath, and Steve swatted at his arm.   
“What?” James asked, confused. 

  
“I thought you said Tony told you –“ Steve began, but Bucky stepped ahead of him and said almost proudly,  
“Tony Stark is our soulmate.”

  
And James was speechless. 


	11. Eleven

Tony did surface from his workshop later that day. Mostly because he knew Rhodey would drag him out if he didn’t come on his own two feet. In fact, he was a bit surprised his friend hadn’t come back already, but JARVIS had assured him that every one was fine.

He had managed to resist the urge to spy on him, thoughts of _I’m supposed to trust him w_ arring with _it’s my goddamn Tower, I can spy on whoever I want._

Ultimately leaving his workshop and his privacy and his easy-access screens was for the best, even as his curiosity made his fingers itch. But it was Rhodey and he could trust Rhodey. Besides, he didn’t know anything damning. Tony hadn’t _told_ him anything damning. He wasn’t sure he could make him understand. Bucky clearly didn’t understand, and he was supposed to be –

No. Nope. Tony needed to just stop thinking about it.

So kitchen and coffee and then he’d find Rhodey, and it would look natural and normal and not because Tony was a little bit afraid of what they might say, and it was carefully calculated so his Honeybear would not worry, as he was prone to doing.

He clicked on the machine and grabbed an energy bar and chewed and tried very hard to not think about the fact that this was the spot that he had shouted at Bucky and given the PSTD-ridden man a panic attack not too long ago.

Sometime before the coffee was ready, Clint came in. The archer assessed Tony blatantly as he came in the doorway, and Tony wondered if those sharp eyes were seeing what Tony was feeling, making note of the shallow breaths under aching ribs and bruising under eyes that felt too exposed.

Sometimes it was nice when people knew him well, when they knew not to use his favorite mug, or sit in his favorite chair during movie nights.

Sometimes it sucked when people knew him well. When he felt like they could see more than he wanted them to see.

Clint headed to the snack cupboard, rooting around until he came back unrepentantly with a box of Thor’s pop tarts. He popped one out of the package and settled against the far counter, facing Tony.

Clint smiled at him.

Tony’s answering smile was a bit too slow, a bit too crooked. _Fuck, he used to be good at this lying stuff. What happened?_

“Damn, Tony. I don’t know all of what went down, but I feel like this is kind of my fault. Steve said you were lonely and he wanted to do something about it, so I told him to set you up on a date.” Clint admitted. “I didn’t realize that you all, you know.”

He made some vague gesture, and Tony translated it to mean he didn’t know that they shared a Soulmark. “Thanks Clint. But Steve’s a grown up. He can make his own decisions.”

“I know.” Clint hesitated. “I just wish I hadn’t put that idea in his head.”

Tony smiled half-heartedly.

“And…” Clint grimaced, “And I’m the reason Steve saw your mark in the first place.”

Tony’s crooked smile flickered a bit.

“I would’ve been more careful if I’d known, you know? Obviously… obviously you’ve got some stuff going on and you didn’t tell them… did you know? You must have known? I knew, and Nat, and everybody else. Not like Bucky ever tried to hide it. And it’s on his new arm, so you must’ve known.”

“Clint.” Tony said sharply, his hand too tight around his burning hot mug. “Will you shut up please?”

Clint’s eyes were sad. “Why didn’t you tell them?”

“They’ve been soulmates for a century, Barton. They’re happy together.” _My mark is just a mistake. It’s wrong. I don’t deserve them._ He almost said the words, too. Because somehow, after decades, he still wanted someone to tell him that Howard had been the one who was wrong.

“I don’t know, man. These past couple of days? They haven’t looked very happy.”

“Clint.” Tony said, tiredly, too tired. “It’s really… none of your business, kay?”

Clint accepted the reprimand gracefully, not commenting any further. He grabbed a handful more from the box, and only looked back once as he left, an apology clear in his eyes.

Alone in the kitchen again, Tony couldn’t help but reply Clint’s words. _They haven’t looked very happy._ And, if he was being honest with himself, he _knew_ that.

+-+-+-+-+

He managed not to see Steve or Bucky for all of the next day, and was feeling rather accomplished in a hollow sort of way for it. A feeling that his traitor brain oh-so-helpfully suggested was _loneliness._

Which is perhaps why when he rounded a corner into the living space, and Steve and Bucky were perched there, he didn’t run.

“Tony.” Bucky rumbled, a hesitant smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Can we talk to ya for a moment?”

Tony paused before he answered, and he took in Bucky’s slightly hunched shoulders, and the nervous tap of Steve fingers, and he knew this was the make it or break it moment. They’d either say something that he could live with, or something that would tear him to pieces.

He thought about the yawning space of the last few days. How much colder and darker and emptier the hallways of the Tower and the corners in his workshop seemed.

Was he so pathetic that he’d take them in any capacity he could?

He always knew the answer to that question.

“Sure.”

They shared a glance, and then Steve spoke.

“Tony. We need to apologize to you.” He said promptly. “We hurt you, and we never wanted to, but we managed anyways. We’re sorry.”

“So sorry. We fucked up, doll.” Bucky rumbled. “ _I_ fucked up. You were right, what you said to me. Problem is I was so busy thinking about the possibility that I could have you both. You and Stevie, the most important people to me in this future. I was feelin’ so sure that for once things were turning out _good_ , and I didn’t have to give up Steve, my soulmate, just so I could tuck you under my arm too, and kiss you, and call you mine like the possessive bastard I am. And I didn’t have to give up you to keep the man I’d loved for my whole, miserable, too-long life. I got _both._ The proof was on your skin and Steve’s. But I didn’t stop and think about what you wanted Tony, and for that I’m really fucking sorry.”

Tony stared at them, a little dumbfounded. That was more words then he’d heard Bucky string together in a week sometimes, and sure it was a little fucked up, but it was a declaration. It would so easy to wipe it all away. Pretend it never happened.

“What do _you_ want, Tony?” Steve asked, almost begged.

_What do I want?_

Tony huffed a laugh, but there was no amusement there. “What I want, Steve? I want someone who wants to be with _me._ Someone who can look at me and see more then this stupid mark.”

“I do, Tony. I swear. We do!” Steve begged.

“How can you say that?” Tony asked. “As soon as you saw it things changed. You went from shoving me off on other people, to demanding I be yours?

“Tony.” Steve breathed, looking gutted. “We _tried._ But you kept pulling back. I spent hours sitting with you, watching you work, hoping you’d acknowledge me. Once, _once_ I had the pleasure of sitting beside you while you slept, and do you know how that felt? To see you like that? Knowing you felt safe enough to let your guard done around Bucky and I? But then you woke up and you ran and we thought that it just wasn’t what you wanted. So yeah, we tried to do everything we could to make sure you were happy, even if it wasn’t with us.”

“Uh-huh. Then you saw my mark and realized you did get to have me after all?” Tony asked, his voice almost cruel, which was the reverse of how he was feeling inside, where his heart was aching and the mantra in his head was _I still want you to have me._

“No.” Bucky said firmly, his mouth all twisted up. “We found out about your mark and we knew there was more to the story. And we had some of the pieces. Enough to know that Howard had some hand it. Enough to know you’ve gotten hurt because of our mark.”

Probably a few things that Rhodey had let slip, although they didn’t say that.

“And now?”

Steve eyes were wide and watery. “Now I just want you to know that some of my best days started with bringing you a cup of coffee and getting to see you smile. A real one. Watching you tease Dum-E. Tony, seeing you be happy is one of the best things in my life. Since way before I knew you even had a mark. That’s always been true. I just wish we had of done this better.”

“I, uh…”

“Don’t hafta say anything if you don’t want, sweetheart.”

 _Fuuuuck_ , how was he supposed to think when Bucky was throwing out nicknames like that? How was he supposed to stay mad? He didn’t want to stay mad. He wanted Steve to curl his fingers in his hair like he’d seen him do with Bucky. Wanted to sink into Bucky’s warmth like he had that day and fall asleep.

Steve asked him what he wanted? He wanted them both.

He wasn’t ready to say it.

Not yet.

But he knew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know a lot of you wanted Steve and Bucky to suffer, but I didn't want to write Tony seeking revenge, I didn't want to write retaliation and atonement because where does it end? What is equal in worth to Tony's suffering?  
> What I did want was apologies and honesty. I want the boys to be able to move forward, and I hope readers that you find this a satisfactory, or at the very least, adequate, chapter. If not, well, what can I say? It is what it is. 
> 
> Also, this is not quite the end. I do have a little bit more in mind, so stay tuned! :)


End file.
